


Sunshine Through the Clouds

by Shatterpath



Series: Sassy, Snarky, and Sexy [7]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angie has a crush, Angst, BAMF Angie Martinelli, Childhood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Feels, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Morse Code, Motherhood, Not Canon Compliant, Peggy's tornado story, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Subtext, Temper Tantrums, Unconventional Families, Waiters & Waitresses, World War II, badass epic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 14,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Carter ladies and their loved ones do their best to move on, with mixed success. Then comes a ray of sunshine in their lives in the form of a lovable waitress destined to become so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of the greater tale branching out as Peggy and Grace are forced to carry on without Steve. In time, they will find happiness again, in many forms, including one Angie Martinelli. Outside of learning more about Peggy, Angie was the best part of 'Agent Carter' without a doubt. In this universe, her life intersecting Peggy's will play out far differently, but her role remains essentially the same.

Time became a smeared watercolor, punctuated by moments that would punch through the haze of pain.

A racket of sound in the tomb-silent house startled Peggy from her room on the fourth day. Her numbness was shattered like the ice that must have absorbed Steve those scant days ago. For Howard stared at her, looking like a ghost. Confined with all the grace of a captured bear and looking as though more than his arm had been torn away, was a gaunt Bucky Barnes.

The silence had been deafening behind their trio of harsh breathing; the light blurry through too many tears.

Nine days after that, the trio had meticulously dressed to the nines and walked into the Copacabana with heads held high. Steve would have wanted them to at least try to live on without him. They raised a single, silent toast to the good man who had meant so much to each of them and relished the hot choke of the good whiskey.

Determinedly not indulging in more than that lone glass of liquor, Peggy returned to the daughter she'd barely been able to take care of those first, agonizing days. She held the little body close, hummed a broken tune as she danced as she never would get the chance to do with the man so much a part of them both.

It would still be many long days before Peggy could find her speech again, and weeks more before Bucky spoke a word. Howard had vanished with little more than a whispered, "I'm going to find him," the morning after they toasted Steve's death. It was little shock to any of them and all they could do was hope that he would come home safe when he was ready.

Peggy's twenty-sixth birthday was mercifully ignored, just another tomb-quiet day at a home still in mourning. Though Anna slipped her a decadently sweet little pastry made with a loving hand. It was one of the first things that felt warm and whole in Peggy's belly in far too long. 

Roger Dooley began bringing encrypted documents to Peggy once more, content to not interrupt her near-silence with unnecessary chatter and condolences. 

But it wasn't until nearly two months after Steve's death did Peggy feel like part of her was coming back to life. Stunned white as a sheet, Anna and Edwin crashed into the big house and cranked the big radio in the living room as loud as it would go, stunned, staticy voices carrying the news. Even the still-recovering Bucky crept from his room to join them in huddling around the radio just like the rest of the world, to listen to the glorious news that the war was over, heard the fireworks blasting impulsively over the streets of New York in the distance. 

It was May eighth of ninety forty-five and the Allies had finally won. 

Peggy held Grace close and pictured ravaged London in her mind, let the memories of a lifetime of fighting wash over her. Through her pain gleamed a hint of hope for the future. The four adults poured sweet liquor smelling of apples and sunshine and raised their goblets in silent toast before drinking deeply. They knew others they cared about were doing the same in distant places; Howard on his lonely quest for closure, the Howling Commandos still on distant shores, scattered loved ones the two women may or may not have left behind.

The war was over and Steve had not died in vain. When his closest loved ones found their strength again, they would root out the filthy entrails of the enemy and stop the world from ever knowing such a horror again.

The next day Bucky was gone, vanished into the night with only a note that he was joining Howard in his search. There was no trace of surprise in Peggy over it. As much as part of her might want to join the quest, she had Grace to live for.

Summer warmed and Grace grew and grew. A bright, quiet child, she was her mother's greatest joy, often her only joy. They would sit together listening to the distant sounds of the city at their doorstep, they would watch the birds and enjoy the kiss of the warm summer rains. Through it all, Grace and the seclusion from the world around her both insulated and isolated Peggy. Healthy behavior or no, she reveled in it, pouring everything she had into Grace in hope that one day, the trickle might become a flood.

Chester Phillips returned home, personally handed over Steve's file, painfully stamped 'inactive'. It was only the second time she had truly wept over her husband's loss, caught up in her father-figure's arms. While New York wasn't Phillips' home-- he was a Dixie boy through and through-- he promised to visit as often as he could. As both Carter girls adored him, it had best be a promise kept.

But she couldn't bring herself to open Steve's trunk that was left in her care with the SSR's return to stateside.


	2. Chapter 2

June crept by, the city swelling with men returning from war, heating with the summer weather and lives slowly returning to normal. The fourth of July would be a spectacular blowout in every city of the Union.

Peggy had herself ensconced in the study that had been Grace's birthing room by the third week of June. Regardless of the stuffy heat, she began sleeping in there by the first of July and handed Grace off to Anna for the night of the forth. Assaulted by the thunder of fireworks too reminiscent of deadly bombs, too pummeled by memories of Steve, she curled up in a small ball of misery not on the small bed moved into the room, but beneath it, and waited for the night to pass.

Then, shaky quiet days and a wedding anniversary spent alone with a bottle, Grace once again in the Jarvises' care.

It was another week before she felt settled again and another month before she could get any sleep away from her little nest beneath the bed. 

Anna and Edwin were endlessly patient with Peggy, giving her space, ensuring she ate, not commenting on the unused bed nor the bedding crammed in beneath it.

The summer ticked away slowly.

As fall closed in, Howard and Bucky were forced to abandon their quest to find Steve's body and the wreckage of the Valkyrie. That was about the same time the military came sniffing around, clearly curious what Peggy was up to, none to subtly eyeing Grace where the baby was clutched protectively to her mother's chest. It was enough to set Peggy to growling like a mama bear and the uniformed men, who once would have represented safety and help, left quietly. But they were clearly wanting to get a better look at the only legacy Captain America had left behind.

The entire household was rattled after that.

As much as Peggy hated it, she knew that a few tests not involving childhood illnesses and preventions would need to be done. And Howard, for once, was sensitive to the request, horrified at it actually, but was persuaded as to the validity of it. That was when Peggy found out about the secret basement, the 'Bad Babies' that he had locked away beneath the house.

That was an ugly fight, her stress and terror making her nearly insane, Howard cringing in real terror from her wrath. They were gone within twenty-four hours, spirited away to Camp Lehigh which was in the process of being decommissioned and the Army was all too happy to sell the land to Stark. Tucked in among the dangerous technology was a lone, harmless thing. The last vial of Steve's blood, taken from him the day of his change. The memories stung as they always did, but the good ones could be savored too. Scrawny little Steve, so fearless, changed so drastically by the Rebirth chamber. Erskine's death, the loss of the serum in that moment, but Steve rising to the challenge he had been made for. 

Grace didn't like the needles, but her grownups did their best to make a game of it, to distract her while her red blood was collected and stored beside her father's. Peggy was forced to trust Howard to do the best he could to keep it all safe and to keep the military away from Grace. 

By the time the hottest months were beating down on them, Grace figured out how to coordinate her limbs and the encroaching softness of a sedentary life that had been bothering Peggy was became a thing of the past. She began getting into everything and the entire month of September and going into October was spent clearing out much of the big house of its expensive, fragile, heavy things.

It was also when Grace said, "Mama," for the very first time. For the first time since Steve's voice was replaced by static, Peggy wept happy tears. 

Determined not to be one of those ridiculous women that spoke nonsensical, high-pitched baby talk to her bright child, for the most part, Peggy simply talked to Grace, who mostly hung on every word. The radio also ran nearly nonstop while they were awake, voices and music to stimulate Grace's busy mind. She loved the colorful books and toys brought to her by her adults, but loved pestering them more.

Peggy was no fan of leaving the house, but she finally began feeling the pressure of confinement. Her forays away were always short and consisted mostly of some light shopping. When a handsome stranger flirted with her over the counter of a local chemist, she felt as though he was speaking a foreign language she'd quite forgotten. The fellow's smile dimmed as she stared at him, expression conflicted, and rubbed at the frayed piece of twine on her finger that somehow still remained.

As winter bore down on New York, Peggy scrounged together her small finances and bought herself a locket to wear close to her heart. It was nothing special save for the tiny photographs she trimmed to the heart shape with shaking hands and slipped inside. The scrape of the blades through the cord and the peculiar sensation of nakedness left from her suddenly bare finger made her sob. The broken cord, grey with age and abuse, was carefully tucked around Steve's blurry picture, one she had found in the files Phillips had brought to her. The photo was of Steve as a small man, before Erskine had changed him so, the thin face earnest and serious, with a bit of smirk playing around his mouth. Side by side with the round-faced baby he'd fathered, she could see the hints of resemblance between them. On the gold chain hung Bucky's bent tin ring looking all the more derelict and shabby against the fine metal. 

In the talismans she found a small sense of solace and they were never far from her reach.


	3. Chapter 3

Grace continued to learn to stumble about, adding a chaos to her adult's lives that was both exhausting and exhilarating. Unfortunately, with the onset of true winter, came the teething. It quickly became apparent that Grace had inherited her mother's penchant for wielding dangerous teeth. Steve would have doubtlessly found it hilarious. Unfortunately, the painful process also made Grace cranky and feverish for the entire holiday season. 

In some respects, it was almost a relief. To be so distracted away from the loneliness that seemed settled into Peggy's very bones. With Howard and Bucky spending most of their time at the old base, Thanksgiving and Christmas were low key affairs with few gifts and minimal fanfare. But on the heels of their quiet Christmas, was the reality that Peggy's baby girl… was going to be a year old.

After another night isolated in the inner room that was her sanctuary, Peggy unwound from yet more fireworks by spending some quiet time with Grace. She babbled excitedly about seeing the colorful display in the distance with Anna and Edwin, fascinated and shy over the handful of happy strangers who'd clustered at the gate and sung loudly.

That night, Peggy slept little, cradling Grace's somnolent body to her, the child so large now, so strong, so solid.

Like her father.

Her mind had grown forgetful the way her heart had not. Details about him were beginning to evade her now, the exact curve of his smile, the shape of his chiseled body, the corners of his blue, blue eyes. Little things about Grace would shock the breath out of her sometimes, little familiar things that spoke of her father; the stubborn jaw, the mischievous smile, the way she would lower her shoulder and try to ram her way through obstacles. 

Bright and early, mother and daughter left their quiet haven to find a day promising to be calm and almost pleasant; a rarity to be sure in the dead of winter. 

"Happy birthday, my darling," Peggy murmured as they took a long bath before doing themselves up in their best togs for a day on the town. 

Uncle Howard was always good about ensuring his adopted family was well taken care of, even as he was rarely around. But he'd made a special trip to the house to proudly present his niece of heart with some lovely winter clothes. As Grace loathed wool with an almost comical intensity, it was no simple task that he had embarked on. A thin, fine cotton duck as sleekly oiled as the bird it was named for made a near-waterproof shell and a silky, fine linen liner kept the warm wool away from her skin. That she matched Mama was a bonus.

"Mama, itchy," Grace pouted as she squirmed under the primping.

"No, Uncle Howard was very careful to make certain that his favorite niece wouldn't be itchy."

She was torn between her sulk and watching Peggy finish her preparations for a day out. As always, those bright eyes watched in silent fascination at the powder applied, the hint of rouge, a bit of darkening around the big, deep eyes she shared and, best of all, the rich crimson lipstick. The intense stare gave Peggy pause and she grinned at her girl.

"Darling, would you like to wear a bit? To look your finest on your very first birthday."

Grace's smile could have lit all of New York and then some. 

So, togged to the bricks, the Carter ladies climbed into the good Packard and let Edwin take them in fine style to their first outing to the city beyond. Grace was not a big fan of the car and clung close, but was thrilled with the quiet little out of the way shop that specialized in fine wooden toys. Peggy was content to let her wander and grab for what caught her eye until a favorite was decided on. Well, that was the idea anyway. In fact, Grace was so torn between a bright yellow duckie and whimsical purple dragon that she looked ready to cry. Deciding that an indulgence was acceptable on this milestone, Peggy paid for both and Grace was incandescent with joy. She even sat quietly in the pram, babbling quietly to her new friends when she wasn't staring openly at the city around her.

With the air still, the cold seemed more tolerable, so Peggy walked and drank up the conflicting emotions of enjoying herself while still mired in her constant pain and paranoia. Steve should have been there with them, his warm hand in hers, tickling at the baby to make her laugh, making up stories and little drawings for her new toys.

The kiss of a passing icy breeze gave her an excuse to indulge in the tears in her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last. Angie.

Thankfully the scent of food and coffee provided a needed distraction in the form of one of the many automat eateries that populated the city. This one was dimly familiar and Peggy realized that she wasn't far from the SSR offices. It figured. Ah well, she'd made a mental note some time ago to the give the place a try.

"Are you hungry, darling?"

"Hun'ry!"

"Excellent. An early lunch it is."

Warmth and good smells washed over them as they awkwardly made their way through the revolving door.

"Well hi there, Sunshine!"

Jumping in surprise, for an insane moment Peggy could not fathom what the unknown woman's voice could possibly mean. She had never been in the establishment before, though she had passed it by once or twice. It was just out of the way enough to be in a neighborhood familiar as it was close to the phone company, but far enough of a walk to be just at the edge of inconvenient. But the lingering scent of pie had stuck in her mind and brought her feet here. In a crisp uniform that matched the somewhat unfortunate décor in pink and green, the attractive young woman crouched down to grin winningly, not at Peggy, but at Grace.

It would take some getting used to the attentions of strangers, drawn in inevitably by a small child. She had suspected that it would be wildly uncomfortable, though there was no sense of menace at least.

"Can I say hi?"

This time it took Peggy a moment to realize the woman was speaking to her. Trapped in the emotional morass of the unrelenting paranoia and weight of the anniversary of this day, she hesitated too long and watched the stranger's sunny expression start to shut down.

Only to have Grace take matters into her own little hands.

With a startlingly accurate lunge, the baby threw herself into the front of the pram and grabbed the stranger's finger in a bruising grip. Even as Peggy tensed for fight or flight, too many instincts clamoring for attention, the young woman laughed in delight.

"Nice reflexes, Cutie-pie! You girls hungry?"

"Hun'ry!" Grace yelled and Peggy gawked while the waitress laughed warmly and stood, fingers still trapped in a pudgy little fist. "Kitty!"

"She's not normally so… interactive," Peggy finally found her voice and the stranger smiled even more, apparently unconcerned about her uncomfortable-looking stoop. "Please forgive her boldness."

"No harm done, English. Tell you what, let's get you to a booth and I'll sit with her for a sec so you can choose some lunch. Sound good?"

Baffled for the umpteenth time by the bold, open people of this city, Peggy absorbed the tease clearly aimed at her out-of-place accent, but couldn't find any offense in the face of that winning smile. "Peggy. And this is Grace."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Angie. Really, I'm supposed to be wearin' my nametag, but at the tail end of the holiday season, who can find anything, right?"

With a strangely coordinated shuffle, the trio made it to a booth and Angie sat to return her attention to the baby trying to chew her fingertips. Gentle tickles were mostly an effective defense against sharp little teeth.

"Oh no you don't," Angie giggled and made faces at Grace. "I'm not lunch. The chicken pot pie is pretty good. Lots'a vegetables to share."

Already picking up on the woman's shifts in conversation, Peggy took the second half of that to be aimed at her and turned to the wall of little glass-fronted windows waiting for loose change to give up the treats within. Even more astonishingly, Grace was babbling nonsense as she did her best to see how many directions she could bend the strange fingers in her grip, all of which Angie took with barely a grimace.

"You chose a perfect time to come make friends, Grace."

"Kitty!"

"Where!" Angie played along, looking around as though in search of the mythical kitty and Grace… laughed. Not her usual half-talking giggle, but a squealing racket of joy that Angie made a hilariously silly face to encourage. "You're the only cute little kitty I see."

Shaken, Peggy collected a few things she barely noted and half stumbled her way back to the table. "She likes you."

It was an understatement and Peggy was wracked with guilt for taking so long to bring her daughter out into the world. But the fear that ate her every minute of every day was a sucking mire that even she had trouble fighting. 

"I like her too. Looks like the place is still empty, so take a minute to eat."

Peggy gave up trying to figure out the strange and welcome twist to her day, but instead embraced it with a broken quirk of smile returned by a kind stranger.


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you like working here?"

It was an oddly intimate question from the quiet Englishwoman and Angie took a moment to respond. It was a hellish day at the automat, busy cranky businessmen and other oddballs, many of them stressing over tomorrow's Valentine holiday. The whole city was jittery with need for the winter to break for real, to melt off the icy drifts and the memory of the epic storms that had socked them in for months and months. Though the presence of the Carters certainly made her day better. They had made a habit of stopping in a couple times a week over the last month and a half and she looked forward to every visit.

"Well, 'like' might be too a strong word," Angie deflected, flashing a weary, tight grin as she raced off to accommodate yet another cranky customer. Peggy hated to see that sunny smile so wilted, the younger woman's happy enthusiasm worn down by the crowd that held not a whit of appreciation for her hard work.

The nightmarish day finally peaked out with a variety of disasters all dropping on Angie at once. A boisterous pair of boys finally managed to knock over three plates and a full glass even as several patrons barked in various levels of annoyance for service and one mouthy pig Peggy was strongly considering taking a sharp fork to, gave Angie a condescending slap across her rear end. That had Peggy on her feet, but violence was averted by the arrival of two more girls in the automat's uniform pushing through the revolving doors, their laughter falling off to wide eyes at the chaos.

Peggy nearly missed her friend ducking out, grabbing up a wide-eyed Grace, more in awe of the chaos than her mother's sudden urgency. While Peggy regretted leaving behind their half-eaten lunch, some things were more important. Yanking on coats and hats, the Carters were out the door, never happier to be away from the place.

"Angie! Wait!"

The shout almost didn't carry over the chilly wind, but something in the accented voice made Angie pause, huddling into her coat. When Peggy caught up, she noted the leak of tears she suspected were not merely from the cold wind.

"Hey, you shoulda stayed and finished your lunch."

"Oh, Angie, we don't come here for the food. Would you like some company? I admit this is certainly not the best day for a stroll, but I suspect we'll manage."

But Angie was still stuck back on the first statement, jumping when Grace grabbed the hem of her uniform skirt and yanked, hard. "Nini?"

That made both women stare down at the child, her little face concerned. "Nini?" Angie parroted back and Grace yanked the hem again. Those soulful dark eyes were liquid with babyish concern and she spoke again, voice soft.

"Nini."

In lieu of words she had only a small command of, Grace smiled warmly, dimples deep, her eyes still soft and worried. It was too much for Angie and she burst into a watery laugh, crouching to wrap Grace in a big hug. "Thank you, Gracie. You too, Peggy." There was no shaking Grace's grip and Angie didn't try, merely standing with the girl's weight secure in her hold. "Come on. I live close by and we can get out of this cold."

After a bit of walking, Angie looked over at Peggy, as endlessly curious about her as always. "So can I take it she's taking a shot at my name?"

"It does sound that way, yes. The hard 'g' is a bit of a mouthful for a fourteen month old, regardless of how smart she is."

Grace turned her head to fire her mother a cheeky grin.

"Yes, you, flirt, good job with the name."

Grace giggled as Peggy leaned close to rub noses with her, Angie faintly startled at the close contact and the warm chuckle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for a brief appearance from the Griffith Girls!

Chilled now, the trio picked up the pace with a minimum of conversation until they reached a busy neighborhood of middling-large brick buildings packed in shoulder to shoulder typical of a New York block. The building was plain sandy-colored brick, trimmed in greyer blocks, distinctive in its arched doorways and windows trimmed out in both clear and orange glass, but otherwise unremarkable.

"The Griffith," Angie introduced one of the buildings, marked as such on its marquee. 

"Hotel for Women," Peggy added, reading the rest of the sign and Angie shrugged and smiled.

"I like it. Feels safe and there's always someone to chat with. We make our own fun."

That mischievous smile was welcome after the alarming chaos of the automat and Peggy smiled back.

It was a relief to push through the arched doors and into a spacious lobby where the city's steam heating was instantly apparent. The space was full of the lingering scents of breakfast foods and women's perfume and a low babble of voices. Almost instantly the newcomers were the subject of curiosity, Peggy noting the five women were a lovely spectrum of sizes and shapes and tones, all of them young and bright-eyed. They each greeted Angie except for one that glowered sourly at the waitress from the cluster of couches around a large fireplace.

Grace was instantly alarmed at the attention focused her way, squirming until even Angie's waitressing skills couldn't contain her. With a dexterous leap, the girl rocked her mother back, kicking Angie in the stomach and nearly splitting Peggy's lip with her forehead. Protectively cradling her daughter, Peggy stepped back, prepared to bristle to keep these strangers at bay, surprised when Angie herself stepped up to shield them.

"Hey. Hey! Back down you vultures, you're scaring the poor kid."

With a collective sound of disappointment, the other young women let up, but hovered nearby.

"These are my friends, Peggy and Grace."

Murmuring quiet encouragement and nuzzling Grace's silky hair persuaded the child to shyly say hello, to the delight of the ladies.

"She looks just like you! How cute! Not much like her old man, huh?"

The twitters of delight fell silent as Angie cringed and Peggy flinched as though struck, her expression tortured. In an instant, Grace squirmed and clung tight for both of their comforts. "No," she choked out into the sudden quiet, "she doesn't look much like he did at all."

If looks could kill, a cringing Gloria would have burst into flames, but at the same time Angie was gratified to have a piece of solid information about her favorite customers that seemed to be angling to be more. Peggy blinked rapidly and regained her composure, but made no attempt at even a polite smile. 

"His plane went down not long before VE-Day. I'm staying here for her sake, even if the accent does stand out."

It was a lame attempt at levity, but the girls made noises of sympathy for Peggy who was by no means the first war widow any of them had met. With a level glare from Angie, the gaggle dispersed back to their plans for Valentine's Day, admittedly with a lingering sense of unease to be reminded of the losses suffered by so many.


	7. Chapter 7

"Sorry about that, English."

"Oh, I'm rather used to being a curiosity."

There was no mistaking the emotional exhaustion in Peggy's eyes and the way Grace clung to her as though her small weight were the only thing anchoring the woman to this world.

"Come sit by the fire and warm up. I'd take you upstairs, but my place is a shoebox and the lady of the house has a lot of rules to protect all of us poor little lambs." The exaggerated simper made Peggy smile slowly and give in to the gently urging hand on her elbow. Slumping to the couch, Peggy managed to dislodge the heavy bag of sundries no mother would be without even as Grace remained plastered to her. A few lingering moments passed while they remained sagged on the couch, Peggy's hand stroking Grace's back. Only when Angie's hand tentatively joined hers did Peggy's earthy eyes open. "Thanks for comin' after me."

Smiling slowly, Peggy gave Angie's fingers a quick squeeze. "Our pleasure. I'd say it's past time to take it past favorite customers, hmmm?"

For a bit the women talked quietly, Grace nearly asleep, barely mumbling protest as Peggy gently lowered her to the couch.

"Watch my back for a moment?" Peggy asked Angie with a smile. "I'm sure this one's nappy must be a fright by now."

"Sure thing."

It was a task with the winter layers, but Peggy wrestled absorbent cotton and safety pins quickly, stashing the mess away in a tight-sealing container for cleaning later. Grace glowered and kicked, getting tickled for her troubles, and making Angie laugh. Something was on Peggy's mind, making her mouth purse thoughtfully and Angie waited her out by leaning over to play tickle-grab with the now wide-awake toddler.

"I can hear the wheels in your head spinnin', English."

The gentle tease eased the loneliness that Peggy knew hounded her day and night. She needed contact, she knew that, and her fear for Grace's safety had kept her isolated for too long.

"Would you like to join us?"

It was blurted out in a rush, like a nervous schoolboy asking his crush out to the school dance and Angie's smile deepened. This enigma was such an interesting mix of fearless and nervous, who wouldn't be intrigued?

"Join you for what?"

Peggy almost faltered, but caught the warm tease, her own smile appearing. "Well, since we didn't finish our lunch, I'm sure Grace can charm Anna for a snack."

"Na!" Grace agreed enthusiastically and clapped.

"Sold," Angie laughed. "Give me ten to change."


	8. Chapter 8

Thankful to be out of her work uniform, Angie was changed and headed back to the lobby in record time; for which she was grateful as she almost missed it. In a giggling streak of patriotic colors, Grace sped past the bottom of the stairs and plowed into Mrs. Fry hard enough to nearly knock the old biddy right back into the office she was walking out of.

"Goodness!" The old woman sputtered and it took every ounce of Angie's acting skills to not dissolve into hysterics. Grace wobbled like a baby bird to soon out of the nest and Peggy's voice called from nearby, an edge of alarm in her smooth voice.

"Come're, you," Angie chuckled and scooped Grace up for cuddles. "Got her, Pegs! Sorry about that, Mrs. Fry. This is a little friend of mine and I think she's gettin' restless. Time to head home, huh, Gracie?"

A relieved Peggy finally zeroed in on the small spectacle, eyes flickering from Angie to the clearly irritated stranger. "I've no idea how she slipped away. Goodness, darling, you're going to take years off of my life."

Seeing as Peggy was frazzled, Angie took it upon herself to track down the hat Grace had shed and make a game of getting it snug over the dark waves of silky-fine hair. Once out in the freezing day, Angie laughed and laughed until she was nearly teary-eyed. "Oh, the look on her face! Best entertainment since the last time I went to the pictures!"

Gratefully, the trio piled into a yellow and green cab that responded to Peggy's wave and the settled in once an address had been provided. Grace was a squirmy bundle, but seemed content to press her face to the cold glass and watch the city parade by.

"Might I hazard a guess that was the dreaded lady of the house?"

The question set off another firestorm of giggles, Grace reflexively joining in where she stood on the taxi's seat in the protective circle of Angie's right arm.

"Oh yeah. The charging filly here nearly took the old nag right off her feet!"

"Oh dear…"

"Nothin' for it, Peggy. She's a grump."

As they ranged further and further north, Angie found herself pressed to the window with Grace.

"Are you kiddin' me? You live in this swanky neighborhood?"

"It's a bit of a story, actually. Come inside and I'll tell you."

After passing some bills to the cabbie, Peggy coaxed Grace over and stepped into the chilly day. It was colder in Riverdale, but the wind was less pronounced. The intimidating iron gate swung open as if by magic as Peggy approached and she quickly yanked her hand out of her bag to corral a now-squirmy Grace. "Na!" The girl yelled, ending up trapped beneath Peggy's arm like a suitcase. "Na!"

"Yes, you monkey, we're getting there."

Even locked in snow and most of the trees winter-bare, the grounds were expansive and glorious. It took real effort for Angie not to gawk as they walked along the cobblestones, but she lost the fight when they rounded some angularly-shaped evergreen wall of leaves and the house-- more like a mansion-- was revealed. Even the smaller carriage house beside it was richer than she could get her mind around. And the trio of huge, fancy cars in the driveway? Peggy didn't notice until she had the front door unlocked that she had lost her companion, smiling when she saw how the younger woman ogled the huge house like a tourist.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite likely my personal favorite Howard scene.

"Come on then, Angie!"

Feeling very much like she'd just stepped into a movie, Angie hurried over and ducked into the big house behind the Carters, all of them happy to be out of the cold. Grace squirmed and complained all through being divested of her coat and hat, calling for 'Na' the whole time. Unhappily she fought being effectively trapped between her mother's knees while Peggy stripped off her own warm layers and hung all of them up on pegs provided in the foyer. There had to be several other people that lived here, Angie noted at the variety of coats hanging there, adding her wools to the mass. Balmy air blew up from a grate beneath, drying the coats and warming the space.

Released like a greyhound after a rabbit, Grace was off as quick as her little legs would carry her, abruptly changing directions so that she winged off a wall.

"Boom!" she yelled and took off another direction, colliding with a comically disheveled man stumbling along like the Frankenstein Monster. 

"Hey there, kiddo," he greeted her, ruffling the fine hair and yawning. Angie first noted the wrinkled bathrobe and pajama pants that made the ruined dress shirt look ridiculous, the wrecked, dark hair and bloodshot eyes. Then she recognized who he was and couldn't help but stare.

"When was the last time you were home?" Peggy teased him archly.

"Dunno. Have I missed anything important? Did this one punch through a wall or learn to fly or somethin'?"

"Thankfully no. You look awful, by the way."

"Aww, feel the love," he sassed back and cupped the back of Grace's head to herd her ahead of him. "C'mon junior. I dunno about you, but I need coffee."

"Don't you dare, Howard."

"I'm not gonna give her coffee, Pegs, sheesh."

One didn't need to see his face to visualize the eye roll.

"He's an old friend," Peggy explained, finally catching Angie's faintly shell-shocked look. "Perhaps I should have warned you about this… odd living arrangement before dropping you in the middle of it."

"You are one interesting dame, Peggy Carter. What was that speech, somethin' about an riddle wrapped in a mystery?"

With a smile, Peggy intoned ponderously, "it is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma."

"Yeah, that one, ya showoff."

Laughing, Peggy led the way into the house as she zeroed in on Grace's voice. Howard Stark was kneeling in his kitchen, helping Grace drink from a mug. "Careful, kiddo, or you're gonna end up wearing it. Relax, sis, it's just milk. You really think I'm going to cross you?"

His grin was fond and a touch rueful, but his eyes didn't waver from the child who was his niece in all but genes. Sighing gustily, the girl finally gave up her grip on the mug and smacked her lips with satisfaction.

"That better? Good. Happy to share."

The milk-smeared kiss beside his mustache added to his wrecked appearance and Howard groaned like an old man as he stood and poured coffee over what was left of the dairy in his cup, utterly unconcerned that the baby had just slobbered all over it.

"That dam… dang crew finally showed up, by the way. You'd think that acronym would stand for Stupid, Shoddy Rejects… what?"

A sharp clearing of Peggy's throat finally clued Howard in that he was missing something and he blinked wearily at her… and the pretty young thing standing behind and to the side of her. Caught off guard, Howard Stark-- playboy, genius, philanthropist, millionaire-- glanced down at himself and sighed heavily.

"Figures," he grumbled and walked out without another word.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace vs the dragon is one of, if not my top, favorite scenes with little Grace. That this falls to posting on Valentine's Day oddly delights me as Angie is falling hopelessly for this kid and her mother too.

After the nickel tour and a longing peek through the rime ice-riddled widows, the girls found themselves in the expansive living room. Grace seemed content for the moment to sprawl out at the women's feet, playing with some toys and chattering absolute nonsense to herself. Apparently she was wreaking havoc upon a nation of small wooden dolls with a whippy bamboo fly swatter. Angie thought she was a kick in the pants. Grasping the dolls was good for her dexterity; standing them back up again and again even more so. 

"Here comes the dragon!" 

Angie's spontaneous entry in to the fray with a stocking-covered foot earned a squeal of outrage as some of the dolls fell beneath the onslaught of the foot-dragon. A smack from the flyswatter earned a riot of laughter and the 'wounded' dragon dragged off one of its hapless wooden prey in dexterous digits. This of course, meant war, and Grace was immediately pouncing in all of her clumsy, kittenish glory. Angie goaded her on, but willingly enough allowed the dragon to be slain and the poor villager to be saved. Grace was very pleased with herself and Angie hid her toes away by tucking her feet up beneath her. While the women chatted, Angie would periodically snake a leg out to tickle at Grace with those toes and set off a whole new bout of dragon slaying.

It was quite hilarious.

It didn't take terribly long for Grace to begin fading, first laying her head down amidst the toys, then ignoring the 'dragon' when Angie stroked her foot over her back. It was an odd caress, but it worked, dark lashes fluttering in protest of falling asleep. Relieved, Peggy begged off for a moment and Angie waved her away with a chuckle.

"I can handle the kitten for a few minutes, go on."

The quick stop for the restroom and a change of clothes took a bit longer than expected as Peggy found herself blinking in confusion at the ceiling. Had she fallen asleep? Just from laying down to stretch out her weary back? Horrified, she threw her half-clothed self into her robe and stumbled towards the living room, brought up short by a bout of laughter.

"There she is, right on cue," Angie grinned and set aside her glass to stand. Anna and Edwin were both smiles where they sat on the couch close by. "We figured you'd passed out too, Peggy."

"Oh dear, I'm so sor…"

An upraised hand and that sunny grin stopped her rambling. "Nothin' to apologize for, I'm happy to help. And Anna here found me pretty quick and made sure I was legitimate. You've got good people around you."

Anna looked pleased and fierce, making Peggy grateful for the older woman for the umpteenth time. "Yes, I do. Welcome to the inner circle. Did you get your lunch?"

"Not yet. We were just discussing that, right Anna?"

"Indeed! Edwin, will you stay with the baby?"

"With pleasure."

Grace was sprawled in loose-limbed abandon on the rest of the couch the Jarvises hadn't taken up, snoring lightly. Anna stood and gave her husband a peck on the forehead before leading the way to the kitchen. Peggy paused in following to lean over her child and press a warm kiss to one silky cheek.

Lunch preparation was a jovial affair, Anna clearly liking the newcomer. They bantered over food stories and Angie marveled over the huge, well appointed kitchen and full cupboards and fancy electric refrigerator. Peggy was content to mostly just listen, enjoying Angie's sunny energy and Anna's enjoyment of a warm, accepting stranger. 

A bemused Peggy allowed herself to be waved back into her seat once they were ready to eat. "I'll get her, Peggy."

She listened to the new voice in the house talk kindly over Grace's petulant sounds. 

"Hey there, Kitten. Are you hungry? Anna and me made some sandwiches and some tomato soup. I got her, Mister Jarvis, it's okay. Do you smell how yummy it is? Mmmmmm."

No baby talk, but merely a bit of over-brightness in her tone, a point in Angie's favor so far as Peggy was concerned. A limply clinging Grace was borne into the eating alcove off the kitchen where her sturdy highchair waited and food immediately had her interested. It was a lovely meal, even Howard joining them, despite his muttering distraction. It only went a bit sideways with Grace's enthusiasm spattering tomato soup all over Angie's clothes.

"Stand down, you four," the young woman laughed and dabbed at the mess. "I've had far worse done to me. If I get these in hot water quick, they oughta be salvageable."

Peggy reflexively kicked Howard none to gently on the shin as he started to leer and glowered the whining protest down before it escaped.

"Of course. Let me find you something to wear."

The walk towards the private areas of the house was a dawdling one, Angie staring about in wonder. "Must be somethin' else, livin' in a palace like this one."

"It has its ups and down, many of which are Howard himself, the idiot."

That just made Angie laugh.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie should have known that she would never escape.

It was so strange for Peggy to sit on the edge of her bed and listen to another human voice speak to her from the adjacent bathroom; an intimacy she really barely knew. It was a warming and terrifying thrill that left her enervated. 

"You're sure curvier than I'll ever be… You okay there, English?"

Peggy had never made friends easily, too aloof, too smart for her own good, too close to the violence that lurked just beneath her skin. This sunny young woman seemed utterly uncaring of the shadows in her, was warm and kind to the whole household, no matter their collection of foreign accents, or Howard's appalling lack of basic manners.

And Grace adored her.

"Would you stay?"

Yes, she had indelicately blurted that out and it made her scowl at herself. Angie merely looked amused and curious.

"Stay for what, Peggy?"

The comment was teasing, almost flirtatious and left Peggy unaccountably flustered. "I meant here, at the house. No, no, that's not right. Well, it is right, but…"

"Breathe. Nice, deep breath. There ya go. Now another."

Even Steve had never dared tease her like this and Peggy found she liked it, smiling shyly. "Grace likes you, we all do."

"Good, I like all of you too."

"You're welcome to visit any time."

That made Angie's smile deepen.

"But I could do one better? That dreadful automat wears you down and some of those customers..." she wisely didn't elaborate further on that line of thought or she'd scare Angie off for good. "There must be something that suits your sweetness and enthusiasm. I could take you on, perhaps as Grace's nanny?"

The thought had not solidified until that moment, but it made perfect sense. Oh how shocked Angie looked.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, absolutely. Room and board is no issue, Grace and I rattle about in this huge place and Howard is rarely here and Bucky even less. One more will hardly make a difference." Her mind was racing now, trying to gauge what Angie might take home from her job, what she might pay in rent. "Let's see, I make seventy cents at the phone company, that ought to be a good starting point, but really, it would be so much more than a full-time position, Grace can be so demanding, though she's a good child for the most part, just so active like her father was. Anna is here nearly all the time, but another adult would be a relief now that she's getting more and more active."

A hand on Peggy's arm stopped the torrent of words and she looked up to see Angie staring openly at her. "Let me see if I got this. You're lookin' for a live-in caretaker to help with your great kid and offering me nearly twice what I'm makin' now and a room in this swanky place."

Tentatively, Peggy nodded. "It would have its own bathroom." That made Angie nearly drool and she warmed to the theme. "That has its own bath with a shower head. And comes nicely furnished just like everything else in this ostentatious house. I'm sure Anna and yourself can work out something in the kitchen."

"Now you're just butterin' me up, English!"

"Is it working?"

Angie laughed uproariously at the pathetic hopefulness and shocked Peggy by pulling her into a full-bodied hug.

No one had done that since Steve.

Even as she half collapsed into Angie's small, sturdy frame, part of Peggy raged at the weakness of need, but the simple pleasure and intimacy of human warmth was too much and she clung like a drowning woman.

They stood there for what felt like a long time, Peggy sniffling and Angie simply humming quietly and not letting up on her embrace. Finally though, Peggy tried to pull away, stammering out apologies that Angie quickly shushed.

"Now, I know you gotta miss that fella you mentioned earlier today. I get that. If we're gonna be friends, you come cry all over me any time you need it, okay? You seemed like you needed that."

"I… I did. Thank you."

In truth, Peggy felt lightheaded with letting up the constant pressure of emotion dragging her down. Exhausted but exhilarated, she felt herself smile, shy but warm, at this unexpected friend. Angie beamed back and gave her elbows a squeeze. "There you are. Good to meet the rest of you, Peggy. Now, you go clean up a bit and I'll go check in with the others so they don't think I've run off with ya or something."

"Wait. Apparently both Grace and myself are determined to make a mess of your clothing today. You'll need to change a second time."

The smear of mascara and crimson lipstick on the borrowed shirt's collar made them both laugh.


	12. Chapter 12

Still clearly stunned by the offer of employment with nearly unimaginable benefits for a poor kid from Brooklyn, Angie allowed Edwin to give her a ride to the nearby subway station in deference to the extreme weather. But not a step further. Peggy watched Grace grip bruisingly tight to Angie's slim frame, the young woman soothing the child patiently.

"I'll be back soon, Cutiepie, I promise. I have some things to think about and then you'll see me. Go on back to your Mama now."

It took some additional gentle persuasion, but eventually a teary Grace allowed herself to be handed off and the Carters watched Angie walk away.

"Mama?"

"Soon, darling."

It was still a long two days before the phone rang.

"That you, English?"

"Yes. Where are you with such a terrible racket?"

Angie laughed, but there was an edge of nervousness that the background noise couldn't conceal.

"The hallway at the Griffith. Any guy that comments about women bein' quiet and demure ain't never been in here. Oh dry up, Sarah! Holy mackerel! Put those things away, ya loon!"

The riot of raunchy, feminine laughter made Peggy smile, despite herself. 

"Okay, I'm gonna take an insane chance with you Carters. Count me in."

It took a moment for the words to sink in.

"You mean it?"

"Yep. I can't resist you or that great kid of yours. It'll be an adventure!"

Part of Peggy's mind scoffed that it was probably an understatement. The rest of her ignored it.

"Oh, Angie, that's marvelous! Would you come by the house to work out the details?"

"You got it. I don't work today, so I can come by any time. Just sortin' through my things and trying to figure out how I'm gonna explain this to my mother."

Startled laughter burst out of Peggy, a state she was quickly growing used to around this firecracker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angie's dialog over the phone at the Griffith made me chuckle every time I read it. I never get tired of writing for this spitfire!


	13. Chapter 13

Peggy's attempts at not being nervous and perhaps a bit excited were a complete failure, transmitting clearly to Grace. The confusion and high emotion led to a spectacular tantrum that left them both rattled. So, when the doorbell bonged through the house, it startled Grace from her pout and filled Peggy with a profound sense of relief. Now that she had made the decision to reach out for help, she was desperate for it. Angie's laughter burst into the constant quiet of the big house like a ray of hot sunshine. Instantly, both Carters were perked up as eagerly as any loyal dog.

"Where are my girls!"

"Nini!"

Edwin took Angie's barely-shed coat as the child came racing around the corner as fast as she could manage. "There's the kitten! Come're you."

Unfazed by the full-body cling, Angie walked over to where Peggy hung back, wrapping her up in the embrace as well. Yesterday had been Valentine's Day, a time for lovers and loved ones. As happened too often, Peggy was feeling threadbare and vulnerable.

"You two look like you've had a rough day. I don't know about you, but a mug of nice warm milk sounds so good right now I'm almost droolin'. Maybe with just a little bit of tea and sugar?"

Grace made a happy sound and nuzzled her adults, making Peggy smile and relax into the group hug. "We've a bit of chocolate as well, if you'd like."

"Hot dog are you people gonna spoil me. Thanks for the ride, Edwin. Do you think you could teach me to make a decent cup of tea?"

Chuckling, he added his coat to the mass and gestured for the gaggle of females to head for the kitchen. "Perish the thought, Angie. Tea should be made in a pot."

"Well, that would explain why American tea is lousy then."

"Among other things, yes."

Without letting up her grip on the Carters, Angie herded them to the kitchen, settling Grace onto her hip with practiced ease. "Please, Pegs, you think I'm not up to my knees in nieces and nephews and baby cousins? I'm the only daughter of an Italian who left the old country for the great American dream." Her mimicry of her father's accent was dead on and the Brits both smiled. "This little one will be a cinch. Ain't that right, Cutiepie? Now you look like you need just a itsy-bitsy snack to tide you over 'til dinner. Does your mama like chocolate? Or do think she might be all English and go for tea, huh?"

In quick order, two pots were warming away on the stove and lovely smells slowly filled the kitchen. Peggy watched quietly, both relieved and faintly jealous to see how trustingly Grace lay against Angie. She'd reluctantly gone to Dooley to request a check into the young woman, wanting to assure herself as much as possible of Grace's safety. The lingering unease of the pry into Angie's life lay heavy in her gut, but at least the poking had revealed nothing of note. The Martinellis had laid low during the war, eking out a living despite the Italian name that left them as vulnerable as any Franz or Braun or Schmidt.

That name made her cringe with the memories of the Red Skull, almost startling when Angie sat beside her, talking quietly. "No, Grace, you have to share or we'll both wear it." As stubborn and headstrong as both her parents, Grace scowled and grabbed again at the mug, squirming now. "No. We share and you be gentle or you don't get the treat."

Had she been less exhausted by her earlier tantrum, Grace would have exploded into a fit of temper. This time, the smell of the treat won out and she merely took the offered mug and the hand it was gripped in with strong little fists and drank her fill. Edwin set out several more mugs, smiling gently at Peggy.

"Anna and I will join you in an hour or so for dinner. I'm sure you have much to talk about."

Peggy grasped the hand he rested on her shoulder in a quick, heartfelt squeeze and then the trio were left alone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slow bonding continues.

"You are strong, and how!"

It took only moments for Grace to flag, eyelids drooping and beginning to fall boneless against Angie. Setting aside the mug for a moment, Angie rearranged them both a bit and settled in to regard Peggy with those open, kind eyes.

"Is she okay to sleep for a bit? I don't want to disrupt her schedule."

"She should be fine with a small nap, thank you for asking."

"I have a lot to learn about her."

"About both of us."

There might never be a better time to come clean and Peggy knew it. But even as she opened her mouth to pour out the whole story, Angie shook her head. "Listen, Peggy, you have some secrets, anyone with a brain can see that. But I don't have to know until you're damn good and ready. I inherited my mother's gut, and I ain't talkin' about being able to eat nearly anything. I got a phone call about some spooks sniffin' around yesterday and I have to say it made me laugh to listen to my brother grumble about it. Bein' friends with Howard Stark has left you worried about strangers I guess, huh? At least those stiffs were polite."

Horrified, Peggy once more tried to speak, but was waved down.

"War's over, English, and spooks sniffin' around doesn't mean what it used to. Since the phone company ain't life or death, I'm going to assume it has somethin' to do with your famous landlord and we'll leave it at that."

"But…"

"You want to know why I'm willing to just let this go."

"Yes!"

Gently, Angie pried Peggy's hand from her mug and held it, palm up. "Those shadows you carry around? I've seen the likes of them. In my pop's eyes from the Great War, in the eyes of the homeboys that came home with pieces of 'em missing, and not always ones you could see. I never saw Europe or London or France or all those places where evil had to get torn out, but I heard about it, just like everyone else. Like your city, you're shattered, but not broken and my gut says yes."

Twisting their hands around, they both held on tightly, Peggy unable to speak for the emotions clogging her throat.

"It's enough for me and mine."

A quiet, peaceful dinner was consumed and Grace was happy to be taken to the nursery to curl up and nurse quietly, a loving bond between mother and child that happened less and less frequently as time went on. Sleepily, Grace fondled the locket and tin ring around her mother's neck, as fascinated as always by the golden thing. It was the third chain Peggy had gone through due to the growing strength of her youngling, but this one seemed to be holding for now. As she had once done with Steve, she tapped out gentle letters of Morse Code against Grace's skin; a broken stream of 'I love you' and 'My darling' a connection between all of them. Loosely balled fists sloppily tried to echo the letters as a kitten would knead its mother.

"Your Nini is quite the gem," she murmured and stroked the silky hair as Grace blinked ever more slowly. "Not that I think you would argue, even if you could. You're quite smitten, my darling. I think we both are."

"Good," Angie said quietly from the doorway, making Peggy jump and self-consciously draw Grace closer to her bared breasts. "Because it's mutual. Sorry to interrupt, but I'm headed out so that Edwin can give me a ride home. Given the hour, I took the offer."

"Oh, that's good."

It felt so strange to be left bereft by the imminent evacuation of this half friend, half stranger. Smiling sweetly, Angie stepped in to lean over and press a lingering kiss to that little pucker of concentration between Grace's wispy brows.

"See you in a couple days, Kitten."

Close enough that Peggy could see the rainbow of colors that made up her eyes, Angie paused before leaning in to kiss Peggy on the forehead as well. Eyes fluttering closed, she drank up the warm, loving contact, reminded of other loving touches from too long ago. Amanda, fawning over her only daughter, her grandmother Grace who doled out affection like closely hoarded gold and Steve, as easy with his touches as he was with his winning smiles.

"You too, English. Take care of yourself."

"Be safe," Peggy whispered into the quiet left behind in Angie's absence, feeling as though she had just uttered more than a simple farewell for the evening.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie joins the household in Riverdale.

Through a series of phonecalls over the next couple of days, it was decided that Peggy and Grace would remain at the house to free up space in the backseat of the big Packard. 

"The girls are gonna spit like cats and say terrible things about me when they see that car! Not to mention that I get to treat Howard Stark like a common delivery boy."

Her cackling laugh had been downright evil and Peggy had to chuckle along. A scoffing protest of 'you're fulla beans, Martinelli,' at the edges of the phone's pickup made it even funnier. Given the circumstances, Peggy could hardly blame the skepticism from the housemate.

When Monday finally rolled around, Anna sat with the Carter girls and they kept themselves entertained while the menfolk were off being useful. They all perked up when there was the faint sound of voices a moment before the door rattled with keys and then swung open.

"-- my fault we had ta stop for groceries! There's my girls!"

From mock annoyance to absolute delight, Angie's voice matched her wide grin and she blocked the door with arms open wide.

"Nini!"

With dexterity at odds with her age, Grace was up and off like a slightly wobbly torpedo to get swept up in a bear hug. Only then did Angie let in a laden-down Howard and Edwin to drag her things down the hall.

"I've missed you Kitten. It's gonna be so great to be around all the time now. How have you been, Peggy?"

It was a relief to fall into that eager hug, Grace squirming until she could squeeze them both around the neck. In a flurry of activity, Angie was settled in to a room near the nursery and Peggy's often-unused suite. She chased off Edwin from helping her unpack and firmly closed the door on the scant clutter of her things.

"Mister Fancy, you are a lovely man to offer to help, but no pawin' my stuff. Grace, sweetie? Can you give your Uncle Howard a thank you hug for me?"

That finally stopped the millionaire's sulking and he relented with a sigh and an enveloping hug. It was a chaotic day, Grace unwillingly to relent her death grip on her new favorite and Angie gamely playing along. It was so very strange for Peggy to be more of an observer than a participant with the child who had been the center of her universe for so long now. The day was both ordinary and had the air of a party, what with their welcome guest who was not to be a guest any longer, but a member of the household.

By the time bedtime rolled around, there was a distinct edge of discomfort in the house, but there was no turning back now. Sleepy and moody, Grace would not relinquish her hold on Angie, who seemed far more amused by it than anything else. Too self-conscious to go to her cozy little room, Peggy headed for her suite, knowing she would get little sleep that night due to nerves.

"Brrr," Angie commented idly. "Must take forever to warm this big room up."

A sleepy Grace sleepily agreed, huddling into her. "Mama, cold."

Wanting a more familiar comfort, Grace was at last willing to be handed off, snuggling into Peggy's curves with a happy sigh. There was no way that the chill of the mid-February night could be chased away and Peggy gave into defeat. "Actually, we rarely sleep in here. There's a study in the center of the house that is our little cave. Will you be warm enough?"

That made Angie laugh, a soft, friendly sound. "English, I'm a New Yorker through and through. No way some cold nights will put me off. I got blankets and a solid shell around me, I'll be fine. Would you like a hand gettin' her ready?"

"No, no, we'll be fine. Sleep well."

"You too."

It had been a very long time since Peggy had been so aware of her odd sleeping habit, snuggling in with Grace mostly beneath the small bed in the study, a small fire crackling in the hearth. In the quiet of the big building around her breathed Howard, familiar and often absent, and Angie, the new dynamic among their insular fellowship. 

Sleep took a long time to come.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding always goes better with a little tea and food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the bananas thing in this chapter is based on a historical snippet I read during my research to write in the Captain America:First Avenger genre. Fresh food was extremely rare in war-torn Britain, a theme I explored with pregnant Peggy and her beloved oranges. There was a line I read about many English children not believing that bananas were a real thing, as they had never seen one. that small line became this.

The Carter ladies were awoken fresh and moderately early by a brisk knock at the door. Peggy only had a bleary moment before the door opened with a rush of cool air and the lights flickered on.

"Good morning," Angie greeted, cheerful but not loud. "I have goodies from Anna."

Muzzily grateful she'd shifted to sleeping atop the bed at some deep hour of night and not remained beneath it as she did on some rough nights, Peggy shifted to get Grace's feet away from her face. Smiling, Angie set down two cups and a little saucer of the oat cookies Anna made for them without nasty raisins. 

"I'll be prowling around or personalizing my room when you need me."

Peggy sipped at her weak tea while Grace sleepily rooted around until she could nurse. It was nice, not having to get up and feel the morning chill before tea and the morning feeding. That was the beginning of one of the more pleasant days that Peggy had spent in more than a year. Angie kept Grace occupied for the majority of the afternoon, made lunch and tidied up. Peggy wallowed in just being able to laze about, not even bothering to get dressed in proper clothes. It was decadent and relaxing and her smile was loose and warm for her companions when she finally wandered out into the public parts of the house. She was completely warmed how delighted first Grace and then Angie were to see her. On her sturdy, pudgy legs, Grace plowed over to be whisked up into a full-bodied cuddle.

"Well hey there, English. It's nice to see you so relaxed. Since you skipped lunch would you like dinner a bit early? I found Anna's canned tomato stash and I know a mean marinara is just waiting to be made. Give me an hour, maybe a bit more, and I'll get you gals fed properly. In the meantime, I'm gonna bet you could use a snack!"

"Yay!" Peggy echoed Grace's excitement and they all laughed together.

"That reminds me," Angie was suddenly excited, moving to rummage through the pantry. "Mister Fancy dropped by with groceries today. I hadn't even thought how well I'd be eatin' now, in this big house. And look!"

With a flourish, she brought out a full half-dozen bananas, cradled in a glass bowl, their yellow skins just barely mottled with dark speckles.

"These are really hard to get hold of-- 'specially in winter-- and they won't last long, so we can share a couple!"

They crackled satisfyingly as Angie tore two of them from the bunch and started peeling one.

"It's a banana," Peggy marveled, her voice as much question as statement and Angie paused.

"Yeah. It's a banana."

"I've never actually had one. Are they good?"

For a moment, Angie could only gape, Grace's busy eyes swinging from one woman to the other. "'Anana," she said proudly but made no grab at the strange object in her new keeper's hand. It was easy to forget what this Englishwoman must have been through on her home lands, the horrors and hungers that must have plagued her. Yeah, there'd been plenty of belt-tightening here in the U.S., but not what so much of what Europe had suffered and never with the constant punishment of open warfare. Somehow all of that was driven home for Angie, the grainy photos and harsh stories in the news rags given weight in the simple amazement of this friend who had never tasted a banana. Stunned by the realizations, Angie made herself shake off the shock and take a bite to test the fruit's ripeness, disappointed to find it slightly under ripe, but still pleasantly tasty. 

"Close enough, sweetie. Open up, Mama, and set a good example for junior here."

Obligingly, Peggy did as ordered as Angie broke off a piece and pressed it between her lips.

"Oh," Peggy marveled as she chewed. "Oh, that's very tasty. But so strange. And sweet!"

"They get sweeter, but this one is pretty good," Angie explained, grinning at her friend's delight and breaking off a smaller piece for Grace. The child, seeing her mother's delight, was now eager to try the strange yellow thing for herself. She grabbed at Angie's hand, but was not allowed to crush the small bite in her strong little fingers. "Ah-ah, Grace. Mama was a good girl, you do the same."

Grace liked it and willingly took several more pieces, but not as enthusiastically as Peggy did. Angie was quite happy to hand off the other banana to them, having gotten a few mouthfuls of the first one. A few slices of a nice cheddar cheese followed it up along with an apple that kept the Carters occupied while Angie started in on her sauce.

"There's even some nice ground beef that this will go perfectly with. We're gonna eat like royalty!"

The time passed splendidly in light conversation and savory smells and gentle laughter. Peggy was struck at the sense of family that Angie had brought with her, radiating warmth as though she were own miniature sun. Clearly pleasantly worn out from a busy day, Grace was content to cuddle and distractedly play with the edges of Peggy's clothes and try to stay awake.

"Did she nap today?"

"Only a little bit I'm afraid. Give her a few days, a week tops, and my novelty will wear off. Then we can settle her into a schedule you like. Sound good?"

"Yes, that sounds perfect. I'm enjoying having you here already, Angie."

The young woman's smile was pure adoration.

"Me too, Peggy. Me too."


	17. Chapter 17

It was a fascinating week, full of relaxation, laughter and strange frustrations. As housemates went, Angie was a dream as she was respectful of others sleeping and cleaned up after herself, unlike Howard. However, she was loud. Not in a disruptive way, but her enthusiasm was relentless. Her chatter was a near-constant thing that warmed the quiet house and pushed Grace to do her best to keep up. Angie also quickly asserted her dominance over the big kitchen by rearranging the space to her preferences and cooking delicious things at all hours. It left Anna to not quite sulk for a few days before shrugging it off. It was only fair, as the girl was doing all the cooking and Anna had her own kitchen in the carriage house that Angie would never dream of invading. 

The living room had been completely rearranged to allow for more play space and a pair of bureaus brought in from storage for Grace's things. A thicker rug had been found as well, no one mentioning that the colors clashed horribly with the room, in exchange for better padding and warmer feet. 

It was maddening to Peggy's sense of control, but she forced herself to accept them for Grace's benefit. 

Just as Angie had said, Grace had remained glued to her for the better part of the week, enamored of the new bright spot in her life. After a couple of days, Peggy was bereft of attention, feeling left out and at a loss of what to do with herself. Grace had been the center of her entire existence for so long that she had trouble adjusting. After a couple days of seesawing emotions and exhausting herself in the makeshift gym, she'd started to come around. That said, mother and daughter were both happy to have Sunday to themselves for most of the daylight hours, playing and just being close. Angie had gone to spend the day with her family and intuitively dawdled in returning to the big house in Riverdale. 

However, the Carters were delighted when she arrived home and bearing leftovers from Sunday brunch. Angie watched them with adoring fondness as they stuffed their faces like starved chipmunks, sprawled out on their bellies in front of the living room fire, giggling and mumbling through bulging cheeks. Grace barely allowed her mother to mop her face off before toddling sleepily over to collapse into Angie and heave a great, noisy sigh. "Nini," she murmured trustingly, warming the young woman from the soul out. Peggy stretched luxuriously where the fire and company had lulled her into a half-doze. As happened oftentimes, the resemblance between mother and daughter was striking.

"See," the Englishwoman murmured with quiet intimacy that was echoed in her smile. "I knew you would fit in here."

"So you did," Angie agreed easily, stroking Grace's hair and scooting closer to half wrap herself around the girl to be closer to Peggy. "Glad you were right."


	18. Chapter 18

There was something Angie Martinelli had not planned on when she took the nanny position with the Carters. Really, it should have occurred to her, but sometimes, the obvious was overlooked. When it began insinuating itself in mind and soul, it was quiet and inevitable.

For Angie found herself quite madly in love with the both of them. 

Really, it was hardly a shock for they were both so charismatic and interesting, full of secrets and yet as open as window thrown wide after a long winter. Strange little clues added up quickly in their personal space, filed away in Angie's memory as she habitually people-watched. As sweet and friendly as Peggy could be, there was something feral and life-threateningly dangerous lurking under the surface. It manifested in her claustrophobic sleeping habits, in the brief moments of deadly stillness when Angie's presence would catch her off guard periodically, lurked in the corners of the dark eyes like a deadly zoo animal behind bars. Grace was big for her fourteen months, powerful and alert and so very smart with a melting grin that did not match her mother's and somehow seemed dimly familiar. Howard doted on them both with a mixture of adoration and brittle pain when he was around. 

Angie knew she was missing something obvious just at the edge of her perceptions. 

So she hoarded away all of her collected clues and bided her time. It would come together eventually.

Week two was different from week one and Angie watched quietly from the sidelines. It was clear that Howard was gearing up for some sort of trip, his mouth set in a hard line as he bustled about the house and baggage began stacking by the front door. And just as obvious was that Peggy was unhappy about it. A low, tense conversation blew up suddenly, Howard's voice loud and strained.

"Dammit Peggy, I can't be here! I have to keep trying!"

For a moment, Angie and Grace watched with wide eyes as the two friends faced off, tense and confrontational. 

"You can't always run, Howard," Peggy finally said quietly, hugging herself, and Howard flinched.

"I know, I just…"

"Just go, Howard. I'll survive just as I have always done."

A scruffy dark-haired fella appeared at the door then, as silent as a ghost and with an expression as empty as the sleeve on his left side. Angie could only figure he was the mysterious Bucky. Disconcertingly, he stared into the living room with the shame and intensity of a starved vampire, not at her, Angie realized with a start, but at Grace. The girl clung close, willingly cuddling between the two women when Peggy joined them. The men were joined by a stone-faced Edwin and they and the baggage vanished into the cold late February day.

"Family dramas," Peggy said quietly to the unasked questions wanting to tumble from Angie, clearly in no mood to talk about it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace wreaks some singular havoc on her own.

The time was right and Peggy made a call to Dooley to insist that she come into the office and begin reintegrating into society once more. Despite his misgivings, he agreed, but was quite clear that she was to be chained to the inside of the office and banned from field work. As much as part of her railed and seethed, Grace's sweet face calmed her into agreeing to the terms. She and Angie talked it out in perfectly conversational tones, not alerting Grace that her days were about to change. 

With forced ease, Peggy woke the next morning and did not alter their routine. Tea and cookies delivered by Angie, a lazy suckle for Grace and a bit of a relaxing lie in before they began their day. The moment Peggy pulled out clothing appropriate for work, quickly followed up by Anna joining them in the big house, Grace knew something was up. 

"Now darling," Peggy soothed her, petting the silky curls. "I'll be back before you know it. Be good for Angie and Anna, yes?"

"Mama…"

With only a bit of stubborn drama, Grace was persuaded away so that Peggy could step busily into the blustery day that marked the end of February. There was no hint of spring quite yet, but there was a faint sensation of winter loosening its iron grip that Angie, as a native of the city, could feel in her bones.

"Brrrr!" she commented wryly to Anna and Grace as they began their day. "At least it ain't last winter, huh? That was a killer!"

The deliberate normalcy kept Grace calm for quite some time, but as three hours became four, became five, she grew restless and irritable. It was that day when Angie bore first witness to the child's dark side. It was a spectacular tantrum, a screaming explosion of fear and frustration that left bruises and bite marks on both women, a lamp shattered spectacularly across a spare room, and a mess that made half the house look as through a tornado had ripped through.

"Hot dog, is she fast," Angie marveled as she wrestled kicking legs to keep Grace from racing off yet again. She was exhausted and a mess of tears and flour from a raid to the kitchen in addition to a filthy diaper that was stinking up the entire house. Anna only nodded and kept an eye out on flailing hands to ensure Grace would not harm herself. Eventually, she began to calm despite fighting the tiredness with the tenacity of a badger, and Angie wearily went to begin cleaning up.

Peggy almost winged her with the door as she retrieved everyone's coats-- pulled to the floor in the earlier chaos-- and sighed at how many of them would need proper cleaning from soiled little hands.

"Hello everyone! Sorry I was caught up… what happened?"

Half amused and half annoyed, Angie simply held up and hand and smirked wearily. "I'll tell ya later, English. Right now, go give your kid a hug and pretend nothin's amiss, 'kay? So hopefully we don't get a repeat tomorrow."

Seeing the young woman's cheer so dimmed made Peggy flinch and do as she was ordered, tamping down a gasp of horror at the mess. Anna was just finishing up with the diaper change, but the stink lingered, Grace wearily reaching for her mother with a pitiful whimper.

"Oh, Grace, must you be so dramatic? You truly are your father's daughter sometimes. Come on then, off to a proper nap with you."

The whining protests fell on deaf ears and she was whisked away to be tended to. 

Dinner and some quiet socializing afterward was as calm as the afternoon had been dramatic. Grace was clingy and adamantly avoided Angie.

"Should I still go in tomorrow, do you think?"

"Yes," Angie said immediately. "While I'm not looking forward to another bout of insanity, she needs to learn that you'll walk out that door sometimes without her and she has to accept that. In fact, I'm thinkin' you should do the same on Saturday, whether you're workin' or not. I'll take a long day for myself Sunday if that's okay with you."

"Yes, of course. I did meet this interesting woman today who was checking if there were positions open at the company and we got to talking. She's worried that her factory job will be next on the chopping block. I could see if she'd like to socialize for a bit."

"That sounds good. If not, take Anna out. She'd like that."

Some part of Angie wondered at the strange sensation of dread she could not quite figure out. Because there was no way she was jealous. That was a quick way to find herself out on her tush or worse. So she clamped down on feelings both dangerous and irresistible and made herself focus on ensuring this marvelous child got her best.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance discovery moves Angie to knew level of understanding about her new family.

Day two was a repeat of day one, but with a clear edge of Grace seeing what she could get away with. It wasn't much, Angie hounding her every minute in a battle of wills that left both exhausted. She'd asked Anna to give them a few hours to adapt to each other, but the older woman finally had to check in around lunchtime.

The big house was eerily quiet.

"Angie?"

There was a soft, startled sound nearby and a flicker of movement drew Anna towards the far side of the couch. There lay the combatants, Grace still sound asleep and Angie blurry with just being awoken, her hand still clasped to Grace's ankle.

"I see the war is not over."

Groaning, Angie rolled onto her back and scrubbed weary hands over her face. "Maybe not, but I got 'em on the run."

"You're good for her, Angie. You're good for both of them. Never forget that."

"Thanks Anna. They're good for me too. Do you think you can keep an eye on the human hurricane for a few minutes while I do some straightening up?"

"Yes, of course."

Groaning from the stiffness of a couple of chaotic days and a nap on the hard floor, Angie toddled off towards the bedrooms, twisting the soreness from her joints. Today had not been as bad, but she was happy for a few minutes to herself nonetheless. Picking up the trail of destruction was simple enough, though the tube of toothpaste violently squeezed out all over the side of her bathtub and toilet took some more effort.

Grace was very creative in her rampages.

That sticky task done, Angie scrubbed up as best she could and decided to tackle the nursery before changing clothes. Thankfully, the mess in there was of a more normal sort, tousled clothing, diapers needing washing, smears of finger paints and scattered crayons. Grace was fascinated by bright colors and shapes, delighted with any chance she had to pour out her whimsy onto paper. Or walls. Or Angie's best skirt. Oh well, she'd known what she was getting into before she said yes to the job.

She'd already made a dent when she stumbled into the bookshelf near the door, rattling the piece until something on the top clattered down to ping off of her skull with a tinny bang.

"Ow," Angie complained and nearly tripped and went sprawling to add to her injuries. Rubbing at was surely going to be little egg of pain on her scalp, she bent to collect the battered tin stamped 'emergency rations' that had clearly suffered serious abuse. From the rusted and dented container, neatly folded papers had spat all over the floor. They were drawings and handwritten words, all done in the same hand. That fact was obvious as she curiously spread them over the table that she and Grace used for crafts. It was a bucolic countryside depicted over and over again, with cute little houses and farm animals and a small stream, each time from a different perspective. And throughout the mixed-up collection, tore tornadoes of all the strange things, tossing about the objects in the drawings.

Fascinated, Angie read over the pieces, amused at the whimsical tales of the cartoon tornados wreaking havoc on a fictional English countryside. She took no note of time ticking away, minutes turning to an hour or more.

Whoever the artist was, he was clever. Something about the handwriting spoke of a man to Angie, she couldn't say why. It was a shame the thing was unfinished, some pages raw sketches and some finished drawings in smudged pencil, others in crisp ink, and even a few shaded with careful strokes of a pen. All of the paper was battered, most of them to the point of losing their crispness, often sooty and water-stained. The more finished the drawings, the more battered the paper, she noted. This had been a project a long time in the making. 

But she still couldn't understand the context of the weird little tales, a mystery that baffled her until she found a pair of folded pages that had slid beneath the bookcase. Seated right there on the floor, Angie flipped open the papers, grey with age and softened to rags from handling and abuse.

Her breath caught with painful surprise, but she couldn't look away from the words.

_Hello, baby mine, this is your daddy. I have to say that I'm looking forward to reading these to you one day, because I've had a great time drawing all these fun pictures for you. Your mommy's stories were so often the best parts of some really terrible days and I want you to know them too. So I've remembered every word I can, and bothered your Howlie uncles too, and someday I'll have your crazy Uncle Howard make this into a real book with nice sturdy pages and bright colors. One that you can hold in your hands and we can read together, okay? Just know that I love you so much._

The rest of the page was filled with funny little doodles, a monkey on a tricycle with an umbrella and an idiotic grin, an American flag snapping in a breeze, rows and rows of tiny crows staring at the stuffed man supposed to scare them from the tasty fields. Dogs cavorted and a silly-looking pig pulled a cart of kittens, all set against a variety of simple backgrounds of trees and fields and buildings. 

Hardly daring to turn to the next page, Angie swallowed the lump of empathetic hurt and shakily made herself do it. This one was a neatly blocked out title page or possibly the cover of what would have been a gift from Grace's father. Across the top in balloon letters read 'On Down the Line' with smaller print beneath it, 'By Harrison, Peggy and Steve Carter'. The picture that filled the rest of the page was the same beautiful countryside depicted in the drawings, a tiny funnel cloud just cresting over a distant hill. She could almost see the colors meant for what was clearly to be the book's cover.

These had been lovingly drawn by Grace's father, taken by the horrible war still too raw on too many souls. So many had never come home and those that did were irreparably damaged. Angie didn't even realize that she was crying until a tear dropped onto the worn paper near the trio of Carter names. Horrified, she moved to wipe it off, the but the worn paper soaked it up like a sponge, leaving a barely discernable mark amidst all the other flaws on the battered surface. The moment Angie had looked at the drawings, she'd felt a kinship to them and was seized with a sense of purpose. It was the first day of March with spring a promise in the cold air; the war was over and healing could begin. Grace's father might be gone, but Angie could see this loving project finished, to see the book in his child's hands the way he wanted. Swallowing against the lump of empathic pain in her throat, Angie lovingly collected the papers in order and returned them to their tin for safekeeping.

She had plans to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thus, we come to the end of this part of the tale, Angie's place in Peggy and Grace's life firmly established. There is more to tell and I will share as the words come.
> 
> Take care until then!


End file.
